


senses

by thisisnotwhatihadplanned



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Gen, Sensory Overload, Sensory Processing Disorder, extreme projection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-11-02 02:57:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20598647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisnotwhatihadplanned/pseuds/thisisnotwhatihadplanned
Summary: thank you for reading!





	senses

1\. sight

"I'll look like an asshole."

Jenna bit the inside of her cheek.

"Well... You'll be my asshole," she said, emphasis on 'my'. 

Tyler raised his eyebrows, a sheepish grin forming. 

Jenna giggled. 

"Not that way!" 

She took a step closer to her husband. 

"Besides, you've done it before."

"It's different now." 

Tyler studied the shades in his hands. They weren't obnoxious, the simple brown glasses made him anonymous. His clothes weren't flashy either. 

In 2013, he wouldn't think twice about 'forgetting' that he had his sunglasses on. But now he'd look like he was hiding from imginary paparazzi or trying to diss his fans. 

He turned his head to the bus doors. Mark was knocking. 

"Hey," Mark barely had his head in the door.

"We need to leave for the M&G in five minutes."

If Tyler wasn't nervous he'd make fun of Mark for shortening 'meet and greet' but instead he just said "Thanks, man." and turned around, back to Jenna. He missed Mark's confused look. 

Jenna saw it though. Tyler would have to give Mark the satisfaction of annoying him later. 

She squeezed Tyler's hand. 

"You want me to come?"

"You have plans, I'll be good."

Jenna did have plans; she and her sister were going to explore the city. Brussels had charming little cafés to visit for inspiration. She wanted to make her own Belgian waffles on her waffle iron. Yes, she brought a waffle iron on tour. 

Tyler meant what he said, so Jenna just told him "I should be back when you're back," and gave him a peck on the cheek. 

Tyler watched her leave and balanced the glasses on his fingertips, as if he was literally weighing a pros and cons list. He stuck them in the kangaroo pocket on his hoodie and followed Jenna out the door. 

.

The car ride was silent save for the sounds of defeat Josh made whenever he failed a level. He had some new phone game that Tyler couldn't remember the name of. It looked fun though. 

His polarized lenses made the screen all wavy, pulling out the colors to make a rainbow effect. 

Until the phone screen, Tyler had forgotten he was wearing sunglasses. Now he had to forget again. He considered taking them off, then remembered the instant relief they brought. 

If he had to, he'd take them off in the record store. 

But he didn't. 

Well, he tried, but the lights made everything else worse, even his concentration. He forgot what he was saying to fans three times. 

So instead he put them on and got into the character the sunglasses made him feel he was. The air of confidence around him dared the guests to comment on anything he was or wasn't doing. 

And the fans were fine. Josh did the best thing and ignored the glasses. Probably because he's seen it countless times before.

No, his biggest problem wasn't the record store, it was online. 

Specifically twitter. The pictures of him inside were spread quickly, and people were laughing about his confidence and his shades. 

They thought he was saying exactly what he didn't want to portray. Rationally, he knew they were joking, at least most of them. So he did something he'd learned to master over his career, and brushed it off. 

2\. sound

As soon as Tyler woke up he knew it was going to be one of those days. 

A day where the sounds of Jenna opening the bread bag would shoot right to his brain, the crinkling sounds paralyzing him.

Where sound check would be carried out in survival mode, turning the piano down to barely audible, which defeated the purposes of a sound check.

It was still painful, even after all the preperation. 

Wincing at the sound, Tyler unplugged his phone from the charger. 

He pressed an app and reached for his headphones. 

They were nice. Really nice. The kind music producers buy. And they were soundproof. 

Tyler made sure they were turned down before pressing 'white noise 2' and closing his eyes. Sometimes white noise helped, sometimes it was just more pain. 

Today was a no headphones day, and Tyler rushed to take them off. 

Showering in the dark helped. Turn off one sensory imput, lessen the others. 

His brain felt like hot mush, scrubbing his body was hard work, and he wanted to crawl back into the warm quietness of his bed. 

But instead he dried off, eyes still closed, and joined Jenna for breakfast. 

This was the worst part. Jenna knew about his hearing, but seventy-five percent of the time breakfast wasn't hard. When it was he felt like a bother.

So he said nothing but 'good morning Jen' as spoons scraped against bowls and ice clinked in glasses. Still, Tyler was hungry. The cereal bag... 

Maybe he wanted toast instead of his normal meal. 

.

Exhaustion played a big part in Tyler's ability to cope. Today was a day where he'd take a long nap in between sound check and the show, down two painkillers with a redbull, and have his in-ears turned almost completely off. 

He nearly missed a cue, and Josh was talking to him through the mic. He couldn't hear what his beat friend was saying. 

The bows were fast, and Tyler closed the concert on autopilot, shooting backstage the second he said 'peace'. 

Out of breath, Josh followed him. Sometimes Tyler was like this, it didn't phase him anymore. He hadn't been rude that day, almost going overkill with friendly conversation. Tyler was trying to compensate for something.

Josh stopped in front of his bandmate's dressing room door. After a moment, he walked away. Some things were solved alone.

Tyler felt a new and unique brand of terrible. At least for him. 

He laid on the couch, not even bothering with his makeup or shoes, as he usually did. The lights were on, and Tyler slung a sweaty arm over his eyes. 

When his ears stopped ringing and his brain stopped hurting he realized he could rest. 

The show was over. There was nothing tomorrow. 

He could sleep. He could sit in a dark room while his senses put themselves back together. 

He could rest. 

3\. taste

"Hey Baby, whatcha making?" 

"A peanut butter sandwich." 

Currently, it was one of the few foods that didn't make Tyler nauseous at the thought of eating. Two weeks ago it was cheeze pizza. He forced himself out of that habit, and now he'd have to force himself out of this one. 

Tyler slapped the same peanut butter on the same bread for two meals a day. 

It couldn't be healthy. 

"Really? Aren't you sick of those?"

Tyler shook his head, mouth full of peanut butter. 

Jenna shrugged it off. They were easy to make, and Tyler wasn't known for slaving over a stove for hours. 

That reminded her. 

"What are you feeling for dinner?" 

Tyler's honest answer was 'peanut butter sandwich' but instead he said "Chicken?" 

"Oh! I saw a great recipie for Italian chicken the other night. It's got fresh tomato sauce and everything."

Tyler didn't like tomatoes, or italian food in general, but Jenna was so excited. He forced an enthusiastic smile. 

"Sounds great."

4\. touch

"Tyler you're squishing me."

Really?

"Sorry man." 

He could've sworn he was barely touching Josh. 

.

"How the hell are you not hot right now?"

Tyler shrugged. The more jackets, the better, in his opinion. 

They were warm and heavy, and it told his brain to stop its flightiness, the way it always jumped from one physical task to the next, bever settling down long enough to feel comfortable just sitting. 

His hands were never still, to be fair, but it helped with his legs and torso. 

The cameraman counted '5, 4, 3, 2, 1' and a man they just met started asking them personal questions. 

It was okay.

\-----------------------------

They did it. Josh and Tyler won a grammy. They took their pants off in front of the whole world (at least the world that watched the grammys) and lived to tell the tale. 

The afterparty lasted until three. Tyler danced, and laughed, and danced some more. Jenna's yellow dress swished between his legs as they clumsily made their way through the throngs of people. Famous people. People he's seen on MTV and Disney. 

That thought overwhelms Tyler, so he focuses on loosening his bolo tie in front of the long mirror. 

Their hotel room is nice, all modern furniture and fluffy blankets. 

Jenna emerges from the bathroom, clean and warm, in her pajamas. Now it's Tyler's turn. They share a wordless exchange, too tired for conversation. Jenna pats the front of his dress shirt. 

Showering is a bit much after all the chaos. Eyes closed, water as hot as it'll go, he scrubs the night off of his body. It's fast, and soon he's putting on his boxers, fully dried off. 

Thankfully, Jenna has the TV off and he gives her a kiss on the forehead before settling down. 

Everything's off. Everything's off, and Tyler wants to peel off his skin to get rid of all the sensations his body is giving him. Aftershocks of the party. There's a spot right in between his shoulder blades telling him to shake. The nerve is twisting up to his brain and he needs to move. Has to. The blankets are too light and his body is too restless. 

There are many times where his body just feels wrong. Electricity short-circuits and suddenly he's running, shaking, moving to get the feeling to go away, please go away, i need to get things done. Sometimes it wakes him up out of a deep sleep, Jenna's snoring the only thing for his ears to focus on as his body releases all the... Bad? He didn't know how to describe it. 

He gives a soft hum. He doesn't want to annoy Jenna. So he flexes the muscles in his thighs and hopes the terrible feeling goes away. 

But it seldom does, and he's squirming around when Jenna turns off the lamp. 

"Baby?"

"Sorry Jen." It's a whisper. 

"No, no. What's wrong?"

Tyler shrugs and then remembers it's dark.

"I don't know, just kinda uncomfortable."

"Still got energy from the party?"

He gives a hollow laugh. 

His legs fold up into him so he's in the fetal position. He squeezes. 

Jenna sees how Tyler's laying. She thinks. 

She doesn't think he needs to be grounded right now, no. But she does think the same method may work. 

"You want me to lay on you, Ty?" 

Her tone is non-judgemental. Casual, even. And Tyler's mind breathes a sigh of relief. 

"Um, yeah."

She climbs over, propping herself on her elbows over Tyler's chest. 

The relief is instantaneous. Jenna squeezes her arms around his torso, making the twisting feeling dissapate. 

They lay like that for a while. Tyler's body feels more comfortable, more rested every minute. Jenna loves how warm her husband is. She presses her ear to his chest, hearing his heartbeat. Hearing the inside of Tyler, the beautiful vessel of a man who keeps her close. 

She waits until Tyler's dozing to snuggle into his side. He only wakes to move twice.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!


End file.
